


Silk To My Skin

by CommonSenseisPaineful



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Canon Era, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Laurens just wants to look pretty okay?, M/M, Over enthusiastic Frenchman, Slight Feminisation, cross-dressing, implied washette, injury mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-09 07:39:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8881732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CommonSenseisPaineful/pseuds/CommonSenseisPaineful
Summary: John Laurens knows he can never compare to the elegant women that surround his life. He knows he has no standing in their fanciful ways and must only exist as someone to court and be courted to them.And yet he has his Alexander.And neither pay much attention to those ladies.Perhaps Laurens can get some standing like this.





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry for such a long hiatus I had, recently exam stress and a very unexpected sickness did not help any creative ideas. Fortunately I'm better and I've had this idea for a while, and looking forward to putting this into fruition. Hopefully should update soon.  
> All kudos and comments are appreciated!

John can't sleep. Not with the constant drum of pain in his side.  
The night is still early, but he feels like he's been lying awake forever- drifting in and out of fitful sleep. Laurens turns a little, trying to ease the pressure off his bruised ribs- an unfortunate slip from his horse onto a wheel of a canon, and shuffles closer to the tempting warmth that shares his bed.

"...John?" Hamilton mumurs, twisting his neck to look back at Laurens with sleepy eyes.  
Laurens only replies by resting his head into the back of his neck, pressing his chest against the smaller mans back and revelling in the comforting pace of his breathing.

"Are you okay? Is it hurting?" Alexander asks, concerned. Laurens only grips tighter and moans at another stab of pain.

"Shh it's alright, I'm here. Try to think of something nice, to not focus on the pain."

Alex grips Johns hands in his own, squeezing gently every so often to distract him. It's good, makes Laurens ignore hurting for just a moment and to think of the warmth between the two of them. It feels not dissimilar to the heat from candles, how it soaks into his skin and makes him feel like he's glowing. Laurens hums, thinking of the recent Schuyler ball- how the heat of hundreds of candles suffused into every room. The people were like candles, each burning in their own way and leaving drops of wax behind every footprint or spoken work. Oh and his Alexander, the one that burned brightest. Laurens could distinguish his flame from the others.

He liked that ball, not for the purpose of socialising or dancing, but mainly for the almost dreamlike distance it had to the war-ache of camp. Both men and women alike twirled and stepped like there was no armies camping just a rivers length from them. John liked watching from the sidelines, smiling into a drink as the others would chase almost hopelessly at the many blushing ladies. John liked watching the women, not for their looks or any attraction he had towards them (because by god he had none) but for what they wore. There were so many colours in those gowns, deepest scarlets and fairy-like greens to the shimmering silver silk that often tore his eyes away from whatever rowdy conversation Hamilton was in. Laurens was fascinated by how the dresses flicked and twirled in their movements, entranced by the faintest brush of silk as laughing groups of ladies passed the two men in corridors. He wondered what it would feel like if he... no. That would be ridiculous, besides how could a soldier find such a thing without suspicion? That didn't stop John from tracing his fingers around his neck and wondering how deep the fabric would cut.

"Alex?" Laurens mumbled into Alexander's neck.

"Yes Laurens?" His voiced was hushed in the almost pitch of the tent, the intimacy of the night required the quietest voices.

"Y'know that ball... did you like what the ladies were wearing?" John practically buried his face in Alex's hair, half to hide his blush of embarrassment and half to feel the pleasantly soft strands brush against his cheeks.

"Huh?" Alex paused for a second, "...why?"

"Just wanted to know." Laurens shuffled again to settle his nerves, but the sting of pain in his side only made him whimper and resign himself to Alex's neck.

"I suppose I did. They looked very pretty Laurens, but none were more captivating than you."  
John wiggled his hand free from his grip and prodded Alex sharply in the hip, smiling unreservedly as Alex chuckled at the embarrassed Laurens.

"Now hush, you won't get any better fretting over the looks of other people." Alex battered away his hand and exhaled deeply, lifting Johns hand to his lips before entwining them again with his.

Laurens hummed softly as his eyes slipped closed, they had become hard to keep open with the warmth and gentleness from Alexander. He felt slightly better, despite the pain in his ribs, at least he had the answer he needed.


	2. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex is a little more than tipsey and John is embarrassed.
> 
> Meanwhile Laf is more than helpful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for everyone who read the first chapter! This fic shouldn't be too long in total, but I'm certainly enjoying writing this.  
> And yes google translate was used because French is hard and I barely remember any of it.  
> All kudos and comments are appreciated!  
> <3

"Laurens you're cute."

"Shut up Alex."

Hamilton was leaning, well more like draping his arm around John- his head resting on his shoulder. Despite the two being tucked away in a far corner of the tavern, away from the rowdy soldiers who would spend their poor earnings in a single night only for it to be forgotten. Laurens held a glass in both hands, hands squeezing it worrringly as Alex began to trail his fingers up to Johns neck. The flush of alcohol and something deviant ran red in his cheeks, inhibited logic pursuading Hamilton that touching Laurens like this in public was fine.

"Alex," John hissed, embarrassed that the familiar heat that often accompanied Alexander's affections rose in his chest. "Not here."

"I can't help that you're so pretty"

Hamilton was practically whispering to him now, slurring his words only a little so that he retained some semblance of suaveness. Damn him, damn him and his blushed cheeks.

"Mon amis! Why are so far from the rest of us?"

Quite unromantically, Laurens shoved off Alex and smiled up at the curious Lafayette- lips curled into a smirk as Hamilton huffed.

"Was I perhaps disturbing something?" 

"Not at all Laf," Laurens glanced to his side where Alex glared at him, "How are your preparations for returning to France?"

"Good good! Many men here are already drinking to celebrate the things I should bring back with me rather than wishing me a safe journey. It's a little, how you say? Unexpected?"

"Well we do appreciate when you return with new clothes, food and blankets for us all." Alex quipped.

"So many materials needed for these uniforms! Nothing interesting, nothing worth going to Paris for!"

Laurens paused a little, thumbs rubbing against the stiff fabric of his coat that did seem more for purpose than fashion.

"I can't imagine the Continental Army facing the British wearing silks and ruffles Lafayette, it might be a little impractical when faced with canonfire and mud."

"Ah but my dear Laurens it would be magnificent! Certainly some men here have the hips to perhaps wear something more suitable for en femme."

John hummed, closed lip smiles as his mind went like clockwork. Could he imagine?

"That would certainly be interesting," Alex continued to chat with Lafayette, but John didn't miss the glance he threw back at him. Looking Laurens up and down with a flutter of his eyelashes and then turning back to Laf, smiling. Johns heart was beating much faster, heat rising to his cheeks as he downed the last dregs of his drink.

"Merci Lafayette, have a safe journey! I can drink to that at least." Alex half-shouted to the Frenchman as he was coaxed back into the crowd. Laurens ran his hand up Alex's back, nudging him gently.

"What were you saying earlier about being in public John?"

Alex smirked, placing his glass on the table and turning back to Laurens.

"You seem quite intoxicated my dear boy, how about I help you back to camp?" Laurens held out his arm, Alex grabbing it instantly and humming as the two pushed through the other men and out the door.

They didn't make it very far.

\--

After a few minutes of walking, after the spilled amber light from tavern windows faded and the roads became desolate and surrounded by trees, Alex pushed John from the path and into the foliage. Laurens hugged Alexander's neck, nipping and biting down at the bare skin there. He bit a little harder than anticipated when his back collided with a tree, sending a stab of pain through his still sore side. Alex moaned a little from the pink marks left on his neck.

"You're so pretty, so pretty just for me." Alex whispered in between kisses.

If it weren't for the oppressive darkness Alex would see how blushed John was at the praise, instead he only heard the soft whines Laurens made as Alexander held his head in his hands and kissed him fervently.

"Prettier than anyone else John."

God, Laurens could only fantasise this exact scenario- except John would be wearing what made him feel pretty. Silk drifting down to his shoulders, dripped low around the neckline for Alex to mark him there. Skirts pushed upwards until the petticoats spilled out. The very thought alone made him shudder.

A faint memory of young John running his fingers up his mothers old dresses bubbled to the surface of his thoughts, how he managed to wiggle into the oversized thing only for his father to walk into the bedroom and scald him. The look on his face alone made John wear stiff collars for almost a year. That thought was bitter, unsavoury, Laurens quickly pushed it down. Preferring to revel in the touch of Alexander.

"Alex, I love you."

"I know, as do I dear heart, my beautiful Laurens."


	3. III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Return of the over enthusiastic Frenchman, return of embraessed Laurens.
> 
> Oh dear.

The next morning, after stretching out the stiffness from being curled around Alexander last night, John pretends. The cotton is silk, gleaming in the pink sunrise against the more visible bruised marks along his neck and chest. His cravat is some sparkling jewellery he doesn't own, but the way it offsets the freckles on his skin is just wonderful. Mud encrusted boot are heeled and shining. When Alexander rises, he sleeps a little later when it is with Laurens, he wraps his arms around Johns waist and kisses gently at his neck.

"Alexander please," Laurens laughs as Alex only squeezes him tighter.

For the entirety of the day John imagines each step accompanied with the swish of fabric behind him, the light tap of heels turning heads as he goes about his duties. No such luck.

Only Lafayette seems to notice the distracted mind of Laurens when he doesn't speak beside the others around the campfire that night. John sees the dancing figures of that ball in each crack of burning logs, the twirling effacement of woodsmoke into the cold night air.

"Laurens, could I borrow your attention for a moment? I have a letter still unfinished and it would help me greatly if you could read it."

The fire spat embers again, blinking John out of his fantasy with the prickling reminder of the frost that was sure to come. Hamilton glanced back to him, smiling with a fondness that made Johns heart flutter just a little in the company of others.

"Something is distracting you mon ami, you are not the same today."  
Lafayettes face is all concern, looking down at Laurens as he turns and shuts the door behind them. In a nearby room there must be a lit fireplace, for it quickly feels too hot for John despite his closeness with the worrying Frenchman.

"I'm fine Laf, it's nothing to worry about."

"Non, it's not that you're upset John, but you seem to be...daydreaming is it?"

Laurens nods quickly, toes curling in the tips of his boots at the thought of it.

"Lafayette, we are close friends aren't we?" God he hoped this wasn't about to be a mistake.

"Absolutely, I trust you totally Laurens."

"Then I have confidence to share something with you that I cannot even bear to think about think anyone else."

John bit his lip a little as he continued, "Lafayette, last night we talked about the quality of the men's uniforms, did we not?"

"This... is not where I thought this would be going."  
Lafayette frowns, only perking back into a comforting smile when he sees the blush the begins to spread along Johns cheeks.

"It's just you mentioned some of the men here could perhaps wear something perhaps not designed for them, Lafayette do you think-"

"Oui oui, yes and absolutely John." Lafayette answers far too quickly, grabbing Johns arms and a smile quickly growing.

"But you-" Lafayette interrupts quickly, squeezing his arms a little tighter.

"Laurens, I am no Alexander. However you would look magnifique to anyone. Trust in me dear John."

His head feels a little dizzy with the sudden acceptance, no rejection or disgust, just the sparkle of glee that pours from the Marquis eyes.

"Lafayette, if it is not too difficult for you, could you then perhaps..."

If it were possible, Lafayettes eyebrows would have raised above his forehead with the realisation. Quickly, so quickly he spouts several words in French Laurens doesn't recognise at such a fast tempo- then he practically pulls him into one of the rooms. A small fireplace lights up the room better than any candle, dazzling his eyes for a second as he gets used to the decorum. Bags are packed and letters written, a chest of drawer stands next to a sturdy writing desk.

"Now Laurens," Lafayette is rummaging in the chest of drawers with his back turned to John.  
"It would a pleasure and a delight for me to find exactly what you are looking for, similar to ones at that ball oui?"

"That would be right, but if it isn't any bother of course."

"What colour? I could see you in a- ah ha!" Laf pulls out a wrapped up roll of measuring tape, "a blue perhaps? Purple? Yellow?"

"Blue. I like that." Laurens can hardly think too deeply into this, already too whisked away into a fantasy to pay any attention to the trembling Frenchman.

"I know I very beautiful dressmaker in Paris, Adrianne and I often visit there. However I may need to take a couple measurements John, we do not want something that doesn't fit, do we?"

Laurens chews on his lip a little, breathing faster again at the thought of it all.

"Will I need to..?"

"Just your upper half Laurens, if that does not cause you too much discomfort. If it is too much you could just pretend I am Hamilton."   
Lafayette smirks at him, receiving a hearty push by the blushing Laurens. The buttons are too cold, slipping a little after he shrugs off his coat and pushes back the waistcoat. Suddenly the room feels a lot warmer with his bare chest exposed to the waves of heat from the fire.

"It seems what Alexander has told me is true," Lafayette chuckles as unrolls the tape and begins measuring across his chest, "you do have freckles everywhere."

John thumps him again, only making them both laugh. The tape is cold, causing gooseflesh to rise on his skin with each touch.

"C'est fini."

"When do you return Laf? I now hope it's sooner than before."

Laurens finishes the last couple buttons, biting down a smile as Lafayette flits back and forth between his bags and a piece of paper he scrawls the measurements on.

"Soon enough dear Laurens, good nights and goodbye for the present."

\--

The crisp air feels even colder now, the sun fully set under the canopy of the autumn forest. Laurens shuffles a bit at the doorway, steadying his breathing before heading towards the tents.

When he pulls back the tent flap Alexander smiles up at him, lounging over his bed with a book in hand. His hair is flying loose from its tie, auburn strands framing his face in the faint candlelight they have.

"There you are John, I wondered for how Lafayette would have kept you."

"Too long I feel, too long Alex." Johns smile is practically beaming as he kicks off his boots and pushes Alexander onto his back. Hamilton opens his mouth to speak but is silenced but johns mouth on his, hips straddling his waist and holding down his arms.

"What did I do to deserve this?" Alex murmurs when they finally break apart, a pink flush plastered across Johns face and neck.

"Nothing, you are you Alexander and I am merely enjoying that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All kudos and comments are appreciated, I hope you enjoyed this and the next update will be soon.
> 
> <3


	4. IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All night he dreams of silk and water, the waves rushing to meet him as sure as the chime of the clock announces the time.

His dreams are nothing but waves and silk. Lace fluttering into the wash of water as the glassy surface reflects like a mirror in the setting sun. How each roll of water ripples but doesn't break in the Atlantic, droplets feeling like soft strands of fabric as ships float above its surface. Laurens remembers when he was young (well, younger he supposes) he sailed to London. When nights of disoriented sleeplessness lead him to deck John would find solace in the patterns the waves made around his reflection. In almost darkness, the water was nothing but a mirror that distorted and rippled endlessly. He dreams of that. Weeks of nothing but ocean dreams before he hears word of Lafayette returning. That night, when the camp is restless with the promise of new food and equipment, he dreams of winter balls as Alex runs his fingers though his curls.

The excitement only grows until the buzz of murmuring infects every corner, leaving John and Alex much time together as the anxious soldiers do not notice a few missing comrades when they are so so hungry. Lafayettes return is accompanied with promises, wonderful talk of guns and ships from faraway France. The general is pleased with this, spends the entire afternoon with Lafayette in his quarters together. Lafayette seems more than happy to devote his time to this, thriving in the praise the general must give.

"Monsieur Laurens! How wonderful it is to see you again!"  
Lafayette practically bounds up to John like a puppy, smiling down at him while juggling a pile of blankets, boots and even a couple muskets.

"It is more of a pleasure to see you so excited Lafayette, good news I've heard?"

"Yes, yes, absolutely! If it would not bother you Laurens, if you could hand out these blankets for the winter, it has gotten a lot colder since I left."

Lafayette looks concerned, but winks as he hands over the rather frighteningly large pile to John. He would be lying if he said that he didn't feel the chill stiffening his bones under the think blankets. Hamilton helps. Hamilton always helps.

"Of course, will you be joining Ham and I for supper tonight?"

"Non mon ami, Washington has asked me to accompany him and discuss the supplies from France."

Lafayette smiles, blush rising quickly to his cheeks as he winks again. 

"Enjoy your time with Hamilton, I'm sure I will enjoy mine."

Shaking his head Lafayette laughs and races off again, each step leaving behind a golden footprint from his sure sunshine demeanour.

The men are glad to receive something to keep them warm, a simple comfort often lost when one has to wade through mud or dodge bullets. He's down to the last couple, becoming much easier to carry as he walks, when he sees it. Hidden between the course fabric, a sleek grey box with silver lettering. John almost drops the blankets, heart racing as he traces the curves of the words written there. He's almost tempted to lift the lid here, but pulls back his inquisitive fingers and instead wrapping it up in a single blanket. He moves much faster now, rushing through duties and commands until he can race back to the tent before sundown. Normally Lafayette would sleep on the same tent as Hamilton and Laurens, but it seems the man is engaged for the night with Washingtons orders. Lafayette doesn't seem too upset about this.

John stuff the blanket under the bed, leaves and eats quickly without a word to the others. Alexander won't be back until later, probably engraving letters on the worn-out desk he uses with the force of his writing. He'll work until the candle flickers out, then continues scribbling in the dark until his eyes are red with strain. Then Alexander huddles closer to John, pressing their bodies together to conserve heat, on the nights when all they want is sleep.

Laurens checks his surroundings again before entering the tent, seemingly quiet as the men converse by the fire with most likely, the new alcohol Lafayette has brought back with him. It certainly buys him some time. John sits cross-legged on the floor, placing the box in front of him. In the candlelight it gleams enchantingly, with neat ribbons tying it together. His fingers tremble as he pulls out the ribbon, placing the white silk to the side. It's almost long enough to tie up a woman's hair.

Laurens hushes a gasp when he lifts the lid off the box.  
There it is, folded with layers of translucent parchment paper, the silvery fabric free of all erring crease. In the dim light of the candles, the fine fabric seems azure- a rich light blue that shines in every fibre as John holds it up to the light. It's almost too perfect not to try on.

He fumbles with his coat buttons hastily, hanging the garment on the back of a chair while his hands busy themselves with shirt and all. The air chills his skin but John is unsure if its the cold or the feeling of the silk slipping over his head that raises gooseflesh. The dress fits snug around his waist, wrapping his ribs together with featherlight brushes of cornflower fabric. Laurens pushes the straps up a little, they slip shoulder-length quite comfortably but he can feel his bare skin of his clavicle and neck, bizarre and unused to the exposure when it is often hidden under cravats and shirts. The skirt is a little flattened, but it only takes a couple smoothing hands to let it drop down until it reaches his ankles, curving out perfectly from the line of his hips. John kicks off his boots, wiggling his toes in the cool air as he looks over his outfit. It's a pity there is no mirror here, but John can pretend and twirl anyway. He feels perfect, he feels beautiful like this. Silk draping over him and the careful flush of skin around his neck and cheeks is divine. The colour is amazing for showing his freckles, making his body seem like canvas that paint has been flecked upon- or a night sky with a galaxy of stars littering its expanse and forming constellations.

One last thing, Laurens grabs the white ribbon and pulls out the one in his hair. The curls tumble down his back, loose they just touch his shoulders. He reaches back, trying to repeat the familiar motion of tying his hair with the ribbon.

"...Laurens?"

John spins around, trying to ignore how the skirts flutter and settle delicately around his legs wonderfully, seeing Alex frozen at the entrance to the tent. His mouth is open, like he's about to speak but no words come out. Pupils blown as he gazes at John. Laurens can feel the heat of embarrassment rise in his gut like a fire, threatening to blaze into anger and shame. Would Alex be the same as his father? Appalled at what he saw?

"A-Alex, I'm so sorry." John whispers quietly, tears threatening to spill as Hamilton still just stands there. It's only until it seems unbearable, when he chokes back a sob when Alex moves. Quickly, he places his hands on Johns waist, looking him up and down with much more admiration than before.

"Oh John, my beautiful Laurens. Just look at you."

Laurens sniffles, gasping as Alexander traces the curve of dress along his ribs and chest.

"Do you like it?"

Alexander laughs, beaming at John, so John begins to laugh too. Tears forgotten.

"God Laurens, you look beautiful. So pretty and ladylike."

Instead of kissing him, Alex places soft presses of his lips along his exposed collarbone and chest. Nipping and sucking lightly until faint pink marks colour his skin. Johns legs feel unstable, like they would collapse under the weight of Alexander's affections.

"You're too sweet to bruise John," Alex murmurs as Laurens is breathless at his attention, "Do you like this Laurens? Do you like looking beautiful for me?"

"I do. Very much so."

With that Alex hooks an arm behind his knees, picking Laurens up into his arms. John nestles against his neck, pushing down Alexander's coat until it falls to the floor in a heap. Soon Laurens is laid on the bed, Alex hovering over him and completely immersed in the picture that is the squirming, marked and freckled John. His curls fanning over the pillow and skirts pushed up to his knees.

"I love you Laurens, so much I can't bear it sometimes when I'm not with you."

"Then show it to me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who read this!  
> All comments and kudos are appreciated.  
> Hope you enjoyed!

**Author's Note:**

> <3


End file.
